


spring, night, turnaround

by tokiwas



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Graduation, all the shiratoris are in this fic!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokiwas/pseuds/tokiwas
Summary: shirabu receives a gift on the day of the third year's graduation ceremony - one that previously belonged to someone else.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 30
Kudos: 269





	spring, night, turnaround

**Author's Note:**

> this fic contains spoilers for the most recent haikyuu arc, as well as major spoilers for chapter 3, volume 11 of the haikyuu novelisation series. do tread with caution if you're avoiding spoilers!
> 
> the title is a loose translation of "haru, yoru, meguru" by f*r tr*cy hy*de

On the day of the graduation ceremony, Shirabu receives a gift.

Well, it’s not his graduation. It’s his upperclassmen’s graduation ceremony. Their time in high school volleyball was cut cruelly short, and so Shirabu had more time to adjust to losing all the third years.

That doesn’t mean he has to like it.

But time waits for no one. It’s early spring, and the cherry blossoms are in full bloom – the perfect parting gift for the seniors. After the ceremony, juniors and teachers alike surround the third years, thanking them for the three years and wishing them well for the future. Tendou Satori, always eccentric, drags a rucksack out from the locker rooms, and starts handing out gifts to members of the Volleyball Club. Shirabu can guess what’s in there – probably odds and ends which Tendou doesn’t want to keep, or items he didn’t manage to sell during his stint at selling things for others.

“Kenjirou, for you!” Tendou hands a paper bag to Shirabu, who looks at it in disdain. “Oh, I am _so_ going to miss that ‘Kenjirou hates everyone and everything’ expression that you always have whenever I so much as breathe!”

Shirabu simply bows low in thanks. “Thank you for the gift,” he says. “And congratulations on your graduation.”

“Have fun, Kenjirou!” Tendou says happily. “It’s your last year. Give it all you’ve got.”

It’s actually pretty good advice. Shirabu would never admit it out loud in a million years, but he’ll miss his unpredictable upperclassman. For all his jokes and whims, Tendou always looked out for others. He’s about to thank Tendou again, but suddenly, his senior is whispering to him in an evil voice.

“Don’t open that package until you’re back in the dorms, okay?”

Shirabu fights the urge to immediately drop the paper bag right then and there.

**

Shirabu walks along the school compound with the paper bag careful between his fingers, looking at the upperclassmen all dressed in their graduation robes.

He had been preparing for this day for so long, and yet he still feels uneasy about it.

As he makes his way past the Hall, he bumps into many third years from the Volleyball club. He greets each and every one of them, thanking them for their three years and congratulating them on their graduation. He hasn’t spoken to so many people in such a short amount of time before.

At some point, Yamagata and Oohira come up to greet him. Their eyes are red, but they sport huge smiles on their faces. Shirabu bows, and says the same words he has been repeating to the rest of the third years.

“Kenjirou, we’re counting on you!” Yamagata says, slapping him on the back. Oohira pats his shoulder, and tells him not to overwork himself now that he has additional responsibilities in the Club. Shirabu promises he’ll try to do that.

Yamagata and Oohira have always been a reassuring presence; consistent in the face of adversity, and always willing to lend a kind hand to everyone. Shirabu will definitely feel their absence when they aren’t around to help out anymore.

“Don’t be too harsh on Tsutomu!” Yamagata tells him. Shirabu doesn’t respond this time. He doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.

**

The moment Shirabu encounters a huge crowd, he just knows that the person receiving all this attention is Ushijima.

Ushijima is the school’s golden boy. In spite of the shocking loss at Spring High Qualifiers, he was still poised to have a successful Volleyball career. He had already been scouted by a few teams in the professional leagues, the day after Shiratorizawa’s loss. No matter what happened this year, Ushijima was the poster boy for Shiratorizawa’s Volleyball team, and of course, this meant he had an incredible amount of popularity.

Shirabu watches from a distance, staring at the students and teachers alike, praising Ushijima and wishing him all the best. Goshiki in particular is sobbing shamelessly, despite all of his statements that he was Ushijima’s rival, and that he would surpass Ushijima to be the greatest ace in Shiratorizawa.

“Goshiki,” Ushijima says, handing the first year a Babo-chan keyring. “Tendou said you wanted a keepsake from me. Here you go.”

“No, I don’t!” Goshiki wails. “I’m your rival, Ushijima-san. I can’t accept a gift from you!”

The waterworks clearly speak otherwise, Shirabu thinks sourly. He had heard of the incident where Goshiki had been swindled by Tendou into buying old unwanted goods that he thought to be Ushijima’s. The amount of disdain Shirabu had shown Goshiki upon hearing that story was off the roof. How foolish of Goshiki to be tricked by Tendou, just because he was so prideful that he couldn’t ask Ushijima for a keepsake.

Shirabu would have never fallen for such a trick. Always one step ahead, he had asked Ushijima for a keepsake the very day after Qualifiers, and has been the proud owner of one of Ushijima’s facetowels ever since.

With a “good luck”, Ushijima leaves behind a weeping Goshiki, who clutches onto the keyring like it’s a sacred treasure. Shirabu comes out of his hiding place to greet his senior.

Ushijima Wakatoshi. Shirabu had done everything just to play by his side. But he had known the truth from the moment he had stepped foot in the gym, and had met Ushijima face to face. A great eagle like Ushijima Wakatoshi would always fly high in the sky, far away from normal mortals with feet planted on the ground.

Perhaps if they had made it to Nationals, losing Ushijima would have hurt more. But the early loss had given Shirabu the luxury of time to adapt. He has already done his fair share of despairing alone at the thought of having no more Ushijima to toss to. Now, all Shirabu has in his heart is the determination to see his Captain’s instructions through.

“Congratulations on your graduation, Ushijima-san,” he says, as he approaches Ushijima. “Thank you for the past three years.”

Ushijima’s lips lift up into something similar to a smile. “Thank you, Shirabu.”

There was so much more that Ushijima could say to him, and yet, he had chosen _thank you._ Shirabu bows and wrenches his eyes shut, fighting to keep his tears at bay.

When he raises his head, Ushijima has already left. Shirabu watches his great Ace walking with Tendou and Oohira at his sides, and despite the ache in his chest, he feels content. It is inevitable that Ushijima Wakatoshi would leave, would always fly away to somewhere Shirabu Kenjirou can never reach. But Shirabu can admit with all of his pride that for two years, he had flown alongside Ushijima Wakatoshi.

**

The last upperclassman he meets is Semi, who’s surrounded by a bunch of girls thanking him for his contribution to the volleyball club and the school. Shirabu raises an irritated eyebrow at his senior’s popularity – they’ve obviously never seen him in casual clothes – and steps forward once the crowd disperses.

Despite the rumours circulating the school, Shirabu and Semi’s relationship isn’t as dramatic as the stories told in sports manga. On one hand, Semi’s annoying lectures and Shirabu’s rude responses make them get into at least one argument each week. But on the other hand, they don’t hate each other. Semi treats Shirabu nicely, in spite of all the drama surrounding the starting Setter position, and Shirabu _does_ take Semi’s advice into account – he just doesn’t like people telling him what to do.

Nagging and bickering aside, they got along pretty well for the past year. They practiced tosses with each other often, Shirabu would occasionally help Semi with math, and Semi always bought Shirabu a drink from the vending machine at the library.

All in all, their relationship is alright.

After the crowd disperses, Semi notices Shirabu, and he walks up to him.

“Congratulations on your graduation,” Shirabu says.

“Thanks,” Semi replies, and he’s smiling softly. Perhaps he’s excited for a new chapter in his life, or he’s proud of all the memories they made. “Work hard for third year, Shirabu. Think carefully whenever you’re tossing, alright?”

Any other day, Shirabu would have replied rudely. But somehow, with the combination of the other third years leaving, and seeing Semi make this gentle expression, his eyes start to sting again, and he lowers his head so his fringe can cover his expression.

“I will,” he promises – genuinely. “Thank you.”

“What, you can actually be nice now?” Semi laughs, ruffling his hair. He had done this to Shirabu all the times they had lost a competitive match. Does he think Shirabu is losing now, too? “I’m sure you’ll do great. Just do as you always do.”

Shirabu looks up at Semi, and allows himself a smile.

“I understand. Thank you for the past three years, Semi-san.”

**

When Shirabu finally reaches the dorms, he places the paper bag carefully on the floor and sighs. From this day onwards, its’s a venture into foreign territory. All the reliable third years are gone. It’s a new Shiratorizawa. A Shiratorizawa without Ushijima.

To get the negative thoughts out of his head, Shirabu proceeds to open the gift from Tendou slowly. He doesn’t know if it’s something which could get him kicked out of the dorms, or something that will send him and Kawanishi scrambling to Yunohama for help, so he has to be careful.

The item in the paper bag turns out to be a t-shirt.

The pattern is rather striking – a t-shirt decked out in black and white squares – but other than that, it seems to be harmless. Shirabu inspects it carefully, looking for a weird caption or offensive caricature in any inconspicuous area, but somehow, apart from the loud pattern, it’s just – an ordinary t-shirt. The t-shirt is one size larger than Shirabu’s usual shirt size, yet it doesn’t seem to fit Tendou, either. Shirabu supposes it’s just a loose item left over from Tendou’s Great Merchant Run.

Well, there’s no harm in that. And there’s no harm in trying it on, either.

Shirabu tries the shirt on, and makes a face as he inspects it in the mirror. The pattern stands out too much, and it looks rather large on him. But the material is comfortable, and he doesn’t look too awful in it.

Kawanishi takes the opportunity to enter the room, and he raises his eyebrow at Shirabu.

“That’s a pretty noisy t-shirt,” he says.

“It’s the present Tendou-san gave me,” Shirabu replies, frowning. “I think it’s just a leftover from when he was trying to sell stuff.”

“Oh.” Kawanishi blinks. “That’s one of the more normal presents, actually. Everyone else seems to have gotten some weird stuff.”

Shirabu doesn’t know whether to be thankful or offended he received this shirt. “What did he get you, Taichi?” he asks.

Kawanishi holds up a neatly wrapped box. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

One unwrapped present later, and Kawanishi becomes the recipient of Tendou’s pet fighting fish.

**

Shirabu doesn’t think much of the present Tendou gave, and it hangs neatly in his closet as he goes about his life as a third year. He doesn’t even get to wear it. Third year means entrance exams, and more responsibilities in club activities. All of which means Shirabu is only in three places – the school building, the dorms, and the volleyball gym. There is absolutely no reason for him to change into anything other than his school uniform and gym clothes.

All until one day, where Shirabu decides to go to the shopping complex on the weekend and buy a bowl of whitebait on rice at a well-to-do restaurant. The school cafeteria didn’t have whitebait for the whole week for some unknown, unfair reason, and Shirabu had felt like he was losing his mind without his favourite food. Kawanishi, Umeda and Shibata agree to a shopping trip, and on the Saturday morning, Shirabu ends up running late due to oversleeping for once. In his haste to meet the others on time, he ends up grabbing the first shirt he sees in his wardrobe and tugs it on, pairing it with jeans and a coat.

“That’s quite an unconventional shirt,” Umeda remarks, as Shirabu and Kawanishi meet him and Shibata with huffed out apologies. Shirabu looks down at his shirt, with his coat still unbuttoned, and oh – it’s the shirt that Tendou had given him.

“Tendou-san gave it to me for his graduation gift,” he replies. Whatever Umeda and Shibata got for their gifts, it can’t be any good, as they look almost jealous. Shirabu doesn’t bother to ask.

No more is said of Shirabu’s shirt as the four of them make their way out of the school gates. It’s nice to actually exit the dorms for once, all thoughts of academic and extra-curricular responsibility all forgotten in the cold air. Kawanishi buys his hayfever medicine at the pharmacy, Umeda and Shibata buy new kneepads from the sports store, and Shirabu sighs in contentment as he tucks into a bowl of freshly made whitebait on rice.

Their last stop is a trip to the ice-cream parlour. It’s cold outside, but the inside of the shopping complex is rather warm, so the four of them have removed their jackets and ice cream doesn’t sound like a wild idea. Shirabu refrains from the sweet treat, however, so he waits facing the opposite direction – being the first one to notice the two people approaching them.

“Oh, isn’t it Kenjirou!” Tendou waves happily, with Semi in tow. Shirabu balks at the sight of Semi’s outfit – he looks like a wannabe cowboy from a Western movie. They’re living in Japan, why would Semi even need such an outfit? Shirabu quickly stares at his shoes and counts to ten before looking up at them again.

“Good evening,” he says calmly, after managing to compose his expression into something less disgusted. “Why are you here?”

“To get ice cream, duh,” Tendou replies. Shirabu can’t be bothered to press any further. “Anyway, how have you been? Tanji-kun whipping all of you into shape as usual?”

Shirabu shrugs. “We’re surviving without Ushijima-san, to say the least.”

“That’s great! Say- hold that thought, they have _dark_ chocolate flavour? Sorry, Kenjirou, I gotta blast!”

With a whoop of delight, Tendou leaps towards the counter. Shirabu sighs, and turns to face Semi, who has a strange expression on his face.

“Semi-san, is something the matter?” he asks.

“No, not really,” Semi replies. But he still sports that same expression. He looks confused. Shirabu notices that Semi’s eyes are fixed completely on his shirt.

Someone who dresses the way Semi Eita does has absolutely no right to have an opinion on Shirabu’s outfit. Suddenly defensive of Tendou’s gift, Shirabu gives him a glare.

“Do you have a problem with what I’m wearing?” he asks, in a clipped tone.

“No, no, I don’t!” Semi yelps. “It’s just – that shirt, it’s not something I’d expect you to wear. I like that brand – I’ve bought a few clothes from that store before.”

“Oh.” Looking at the large black and white squares plastered across the fabric, Shirabu can see why Semi would go to that store. Before he can explain how he got the shirt, the gift-giver himself exits the store, with Shirabu’s company in tow.

“Thanks for waiting, Eita-kun! Let’s go!”

“See you around, Shirabu,” Semi says, giving the others a wave as he turns to leave. Tendou’s eyes meet Shirabu’s shirt, and he gives him a smirk, before saying goodbye to everyone.

On the train home, Shirabu closes his palms around the hem of his t-shirt. Who knew a shirt would cause so much commotion. He tugs at the hem slightly, and enjoys the feel of the soft fabric in his hands.

**

“That’s rare,” Kawanishi comments that night, watching Shirabu scroll through his laptop. “You’re online shopping.”

“Focus on feeding your fish,” Shirabu responds. He’s looking at the brand of the shirt Tendou gave him. It’s from a boutique designer, and the choices of outfits in the store catalogue range from interesting to outright terrible.

Going through the catalogue, he’s definitely seen other students going around the dorms wearing this particular brand. Shirabu supposes that despite the unconventional designs, it’s more popular than he thought. It’s no surprise Tendou had gotten one for sales purposes.

“Say, Taichi,” he says. “Do you know why Tendou-san and Semi-san were here this weekend? Didn’t they go out of the prefecture to study?”

“They’re probably here to see Oohira-san’s game,” Kawanishi replies. “He has a friendly match tomorrow in Sendai. Don’t you remember?”

Shirabu bites his lip in embarrassment – come to think of it, he remembers the seniors making plans in the LINE chat. He’s been so busy that he hasn’t had the time to even look at messages, let alone reply.

“I forgot,” he mutters sheepishly.

Kawanishi snorts. “It’s alright. We have club practice tomorrow, anyway. We can’t make it. The seniors know.”

Shirabu quickly sends a “good luck” to Oohira over LINE, and to ignore the growing feeling of guilt, he turns his attention back to the shopping catalogue on his laptop screen. He’s finally found Tendou’s gift on the website – it’s relatively inexpensive, compared to some of the other clothes he’s seen, and it’s made of a certain type of cotton. No wonder it’s so comfortable.

 _“I like that brand,”_ Semi’s voice echoes in his head. Shirabu feels his face growing hot, for some reason.

**

After that day, Shirabu ends up wearing the shirt more often. He still barely has time to leave the school gates, but he wears it around the dorms more often than previously. It’s also a nice shirt to sleep in, too – although he’s sure the fashion-conscious people of the world would probably throttle him for thinking that. Shirabu doesn’t give a flying fuck about that, though.

“That’s a super-cool shirt, Shirabu-san!” Goshiki exclaims one night, as he bumps into Shirabu studying alone in the library. Shirabu fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Thanks. You should keep your voice down, though. The librarian might chew you out any minute.”

“Oh!” Goshiki claps his hand over his mouth, then loosens his fingers to speak, in an attempt to be quieter. “Anyway, where did you buy it?”

“I didn’t,” Shirabu responds. “Tendou-san got it for me as a gift.”

“Tendou-san did?!” Goshiki’s eyes widen comically. “Was it after the graduation ceremony? He got me a value pack of roux for hayashi rice!”

“Then I hope you’ve put your cooking skills to good use,” Shirabu replies sarcastically, and returns to his homework.

Wearing the shirt around the dorms brings a lot of unwanted attention, it seems. He doesn’t get it – it’s just a shirt. Sure, the pattern is weird, but he’s seen other people wear worse things around the dorms before.

“Maybe ‘cause it’s pretty big on you,” Yunohama suggests, when Shirabu complains about it during the Volleyball Club committee meeting. He had worn the shirt over the weekend, and many of his classmates had pointed out the unconventional outfit. “They might think it’s a hand me down or something.”

“Well, they’re not wrong,” Shirabu muses. “But people wear hand me downs all the time.”

“Then they probably think it’s a boyfriend shirt,” Kawanishi says, deadpan. Shirabu gives him a look he usually reserves for Goshiki, unfortunately it doesn’t work on the recipient this time around.

“Well, all in all, it’s just a shirt,” Umeda says reassuringly. “Considering it’s a gift from Tendou-san, I’m surprised you’ve gotten so attached to it.”

“I’m not _attached_ to it,” Shirabu hisses. “It’s just- comfortable.”

“Well, yeah, and we tend to be more fond of the clothes we think are comfortable,” Umeda replies. “Everyone is probably just surprised you’re wearing stuff with patterns, for once. Don’t worry about it.”

After the third years left, Shirabu had been worried that no one in the club would be able to handle stress the way Oohira and Soekawa used to. But Umeda is perfectly reliable; calm and willing to take on conflict. Shirabu is thankful for him.

“You’re right,” he says, satisfied. “Thanks for that.”

Umeda gives him a nod, and they immediately delve into talking about the Club accounts.

**

A few of the Shiratorizawa alumni return to have a practice session with the new team. It’s tradition, after all. Shirabu had known they would be difficult to beat, but still. When Ushijima was around they had managed to beat the alumni. Shirabu had thought they could put up a fight.

Instead, they lose two matches in a row.

Goshiki, nervous at being the powerhouse of attack against the seniors, fumbles more often than not, and they lose points easily. Shirabu is so frustrated that he starts yelling at him after the second set, instead of the usual insulting lecture or cold glare. 

“We’re not gonna qualify for Inter-High if you’re going to keep making these stupid mistakes,” he snarls. Goshiki steps back, his eyes filled with tears of frustration. “Use your fucking brains for once instead of comparing yourself to your opponents!”

“Oi, Shirabu!” Semi snaps from the other side of the net. “Don’t treat your underclassmen like that!”

Shirabu whirls on him, eyes blazing, but Kawanishi yanks him back before he can spit out insults about how Semi couldn’t even make it to first string. Washijou calls for a break, and Oohira kindly goes to advice a tearful Goshiki on what he can do better. Shirabu takes his cue to exit the gym in an attempt to cool his head.

Shirabu and Goshiki’s training for the future had begun even before the Inter-High of Ushijima’s third year. But in spite of all the work they have done, it still amounts to nothing in front of a strong team. Compared to Ushijima, who is able to spike down any toss, Goshiki is still a work in progress, which doesn’t seem to be completing anytime soon.

Staring at the squeeze bottle between his taped fingers, Shirabu counts the days until Inter-High. They’re running out of time.

“Please don’t give me a lecture,” he says dangerously, the moment he hears footsteps. He knows without looking up – it’s Semi. “If you so much as tell me what to do, I might spray this sports drink in your face.”

“I’m not here for that,” Semi sighs, taking a gulp from his own drink. “I came here to apologise, actually.”

Shirabu blinks at him in surprise.

“As alumni, we’re just supposed to give you advice,” Semi explains. “We’re not supposed to treat you like our juniors – we’re supposed to treat you like opponents. But I treated you as an underclassman – it’s a habit I still haven’t managed to kick. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh.” Shirabu looks down in his feet, cheeks burning. He’s never heard Semi apologise like that before. “I want to apologise, too.”

“You should tell that to Tsutomu,” Semi snorts.

“No, it’s just-” Shirabu can feel his eyes sting, and he blinks rapidly to get rid of it. “I’m still- adjusting. Goshiki isn’t Ushijima-san. I know that. I’m accommodating him as much as I can, but it’s – hard.”

It’s been a long time since he’s expressed that out loud. The first and last time he had ever confessed this was to Ushijima, who had provided a simple advice.

“There are no weak spikers in the team,” he had said. “Just think carefully about who is it you’re tossing to, and they will perform.”

Shirabu had felt better about himself after that, but it didn’t stop him from outright refusing to even look at Semi for the rest of the week. That would have meant Semi’s constant nagging was right. It _wasn’t_. Ushijima’s advice _was._

This time, Semi keeps quiet at the confession, but he comes up to Shirabu’s side, and ruffles his hair, like he used to whenever they lost. Well, he did lose, Shirabu supposes.

“Change takes time,” Semi finally says, reassuringly. His hand slips down to pat Shirabu on the arm. “Don’t worry, and just keep at what you’ve always been doing. I’m sure once Tsutomu’s confident, he’ll be the true future ace he’s meant to be.”

Shirabu rolls his eyes, but manages to smile at Semi’s words. He’s thankful for the encouraging words, instead of the usual nagging.

“I hope so,” he says. “Anyway, I’ll have to go back in there and face Coach’s wrath. Thanks for the advice, Semi-san.”

Semi laughs. “You’ve become more honest now that you have more responsibilities,” he replies. “Anyway, let me make it up to you. I’m in Sendai till Sunday. Why not we go out for that seafood ricebowl that we had in town last year? That stuff was good.”

Shirabu stares at him. “You want to- go into town with me?”

“Well, yeah,” Semi says, grinning sheepishly. “I’ve been craving for that ricebowl since I got on the train to Miyagi, and I know you like whitebait, so. My treat.”

It’s strange. Previously, the only time Semi and Shirabu had ever spent time alone was either in the library, or in the gym. Even then, there would always be someone from the Volleyball Club who would come to join them. But now, Semi wants to spend time with him – even if he doesn’t have any tie to the school anymore.

“Okay,” Shirabu finally says. Semi’s smile widens, and it sparks something not unpleasant in Shirabu’s chest.

“Alright! I’ll meet you at the train station tomorrow then,” Semi says. “Let’s go back in, and maybe you guys can get a set this time!”

He lifts up his arm, and Shirabu realises – Semi didn’t remove his hand when he patted Shirabu on the shoulder. More importantly, Shirabu didn’t move himself. He can only stare at Semi entering the gym, unable to move or even make a snarky comment.

With their rivalry out of the picture, they actually get along better. Shirabu didn’t expect them to even interact after graduation – not because of what happened in the club, they just don’t have much in common other than volleyball. But now that his seniors have actually graduated, Semi still wants to spend time with him.

It’s – strange. There’s no other way to describe it.

Regardless, Shirabu doesn’t say no to a free meal, and so he composes himself and steps back into the gym, bracing for the yelling of a lifetime.

**

Surprisingly, Coach Washijou doesn’t yell at him. They carry on with the third set without a word. Shirabu and Goshiki finally manage to get in sync, and by the end, they grab a last-gasp win. Oohira, Yamagata and Semi look on proudly while Goshiki whoops in delight, having made his “super sharp cross”. Shirabu forces himself not to make an unpleasant expression.

Of course, the two troublemakers are stuck with doing a hundred tosses and a hundred spikes after the game. Even if Coach doesn’t yell, he’ll still mete out the punishment they deserve.

“My bad,” Shirabu mutters to Goshiki, as they clean up the gym. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier.”

Goshiki gapes at him for a second, before quickly shaking his head. “No! Shirabu-san, I’m the ace! I need to be able to take any sort of criticism to be better!”

Shirabu really, really wants to follow up with his list of endless critiques, but he’s been too harsh on Goshiki today. He buys his junior a drink from the vending machine instead, and they say nothing more about it.

The next day, Shirabu heads out to town, and meets Semi at the train station. They end up doing a little bit of shopping before having lunch at the ricebowl place. Semi buys stationery, and Shirabu buys another roll of taping. He’s been running out quicker than usual.

At lunch, Semi pays for Shirabu’s seafood ricebowl as promised. It’s the same as Shirabu remembers – tuna and whitebait on rice. The first time they had it was after they had qualified for Inter-High last year. Tendou had said that the dish was a match made in heaven for the both of them, since it was a combination of their favourite seafood. Of course, Shirabu had said that a combination of two favourites would end up being nobody’s favourite. Still, he loves whitebait, and he’s alright with tuna. The ricebowl may not be his favourite, but it _is_ an enjoyable dish.

“It’s good, right?” Semi says, grinning at him. Shirabu can’t do anything else but nod.

How strange. Back then, Shirabu could never imagine that him and Semi would ever be this… casual. But they are now, and it’s – it’s not so bad.

Over lunch, Semi tells Shirabu about his university life. Apparently, he’s in a band with his university friends, and they play some sort of rock music. Shirabu wonders whether Semi’s bandmates have the same sense of fashion as Semi does, and shudders at the thought.

Ironically, they stop by a clothing department on the way back to the train station. Shirabu looks at the sign, and realises it’s the same brand of the shirt Tendou had given him.

“Do you wanna go in?” Semi asks. Shirabu wants to decline, but Semi looks interested in entering the store, and he did pay for Shirabu’s meal, so he has not much choice but to nod.

When they’re inside the store, Shirabu has to physically restrain himself from throttling Semi every time he picks up an outfit. His taste in clothes is nothing but awful. As Semi goes through the most obnoxious clothing in the store, Shirabu settles on looking at the plainer outfits, and ends up finding Tendou’s gift, hanging on a discounted rack.

“Hey, it’s the shirt you bought,” Semi says, arms full of ugly clothes. Shirabu takes one look at him and desperately wants to step on his foot.

“I didn’t buy it,” he finally replies. “I got it as a gift.”

“Well, that person has good taste.” Semi’s eyes flicker to the shirt on the rack. Shirabu begs to differ. “I know I acted weirdly when I saw you wearing that shirt, but actually, the shirt looks good on you. The size is wrong, though.”

“A gift is a gift,” Shirabu responds. “Besides, your opinion on clothes means literally nothing to me.”

“You may be nicer, but you’re still uncute,” Semi sighs. “Anyway, just because it’s the wrong size doesn’t mean it looks bad. It looks nice on you, Shirabu.”

As Semi steps into the dressing room with the amalgamation of fashion disasters in his arms, Shirabu squeezes the strap of his bag so hard that his palms start to hurt. Why the hell is Semi Eita being so _nice_ to him? First it was him encouraging Shirabu in the gym, then lunch, now he’s complimenting his choice of clothes? Shirabu can’t think of any reason why Semi would be so friendly with him now.

Fortunately, Semi doesn’t buy too many clothes. Shirabu pointedly looks away when he’s paying for them, and they make their way back to the train station.

“Today was really fun, Shirabu,” Semi says. “Thanks for tagging along.”

“It’s not really a problem for me, but.” Shirabu takes a breath before asking. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Semi laughs at the question.

“Shirabu, we’re not in the same team anymore. We’re not competing. I’m not your senior, you’re not my junior. I thought it would be cool if we could do something as friends, for once.”

“Oh.” Shirabu doesn’t really know how to answer that. “Thank you. I guess.”

“How uncute,” Semi says, but he’s smiling. “Anyway, your train is here. I’ll see you around, Shirabu!”

Shirabu lifts up a reluctant hand as the train doors close. It’s the first time he’s ever waved while on a train. He doesn’t think he’ll ever do it again.

Somehow, when the rivalry is taken out of the picture, Semi goes from nagging senior to just. A slightly annoying person with terrible fashion sense. Someone Shirabu doesn’t mind being on good terms with.

He thinks of possibly hanging out with Semi again, and he doesn’t hate the idea.

**

At night, Shirabu wears Tendou’s gift to sleep, and pulls the collar up over his lips. It _is_ the wrong size, of course it is. But somehow, Shirabu likes that about the shirt. It feels like he’s being wrapped up in a large hug. Who knew Tendou could actually give a present that the recipient likes. Shirabu will have to buy chocolate ice cream for him the next time he comes to visit.

_“Actually, the shirt looks good on you.”_

_“It looks nice on you, Shirabu.”_

Semi’s opinion on fashion may mean nothing to Shirabu, but it doesn’t stop his heart from pounding at the memory.

**

After the unexpected shopping trip, Shirabu finds himself texting Semi every now and again. They’re both busy, but Semi always starts a small conversation over LINE every week, and Shirabu endeavours to respond within the day. Talking to someone outside school isn’t half bad – between volleyball and studies, Shirabu’s conversations with Semi seem to be the only thing connecting him to the world outside Shiratorizawa Academy.

At some point, Shirabu even starts to look forward to the messages – not that he’ll ever tell anyone, though.

During one of their conversations, they end up talking about Semi’s band. Semi, excited about his pet project, sends him a short video of their performance – they had managed to secure a small gig at a restaurant on a weekday. Shirabu and Kawanishi watch the video together, and it’s a good thing Semi can’t see their faces, as the moment they step on stage, Kawanishi snorts, and Shirabu’s face twists in disgust. As predicted, the band is decked out in questionable clothing, and Semi Eita is the most questionable of them all.

Despite their clothes, they don’t sound half bad. Semi sings the lead vocal, and his voice fits well with the instruments and genre. They do some original songs, and a few covers that Shirabu is unfamiliar with. Kawanishi, however, seems to recognise them.

“I should have guessed that Semi-san would be into this type of music,” Kawanishi says. “Judging by the type of clothes he wears.”

Shirabu doesn’t really have anything to say, since he’s not well-versed in music. He simply stares at the screen, listening to Semi sing.

_I’m looking for a night to be wrapped up in you, even if the thread around our fingers remains unconnected._

He’s heard Semi sing in karaoke a few times, but somehow, hearing him sing in an actual band sounds so different.

 _“What do you think?”_ Semi asks him, immediately after Shirabu congratulates him on securing the gig. He sounds hopeful even through his message. Shirabu bites back a smile, and answers honestly.

_“All of you look terrible, but you seem to be having fun. Taichi likes the songs.”_

_“You’re seriously uncute!”_

Under the covers, Shirabu laughs.

**

Shiratorizawa loses to Datekou in the semi-finals of Inter-High qualifiers.

They don’t even make it to the _final._

Perhaps it was meant to be. The spearhead of attack had went from Ushijima to… just _Shirabu_. He can’t even blame it on Goshiki. With Ushijima gone, Shirabu had to step up, and stand out more as a setter.

It’s an impossible task.

Shirabu had come to Shiratorizawa to be a shadow, not to stand out. Without the frightening aura of his seniors, he is placed at centre stage, and of course – he had failed miserably.

As they thank their loyal supporters, Shirabu has to do a double take at the sight of Ushijima, who sits in the stands flanked by his former teammates, a blank expression on his face.

Oh. Not only did they lose in the semi-finals, but they had also lost in front of _Ushijima._

“Thank you very much!” Umeda says, leading the team to thank the crowd. Shirabu bows low, and bites his lip so hard he draws blood.

But life goes on. They run about a quarter of the way back to the school until Coach allows them back on the bus. They do a hundred serves, a hundred receives. Shirabu tosses to Goshiki until his fingers blister, and Coach Saitou scolds him for not taking care of his hands. There’s no time to waste – preparation for Spring High starts now.

 _“You did great,”_ Semi messages him over LINE that night, complete with a Babo-chan stamp giving a thumbs up. Shirabu stares at the screen until tears blur his vision completely.

Life goes on.

**

In the summer, Shirabu spends his free time looking up universities to apply to. He’s known from the very beginning that he’s definitely not getting a sports scholarship. But unlike many of his teammates, Shirabu has academic prowess, and he plans to use it to full effect.

While Shiratorizawa Academy is a powerhouse school for sports, they have an equally stellar academic record, and so every year Coach Washijou holds a week-long training camp focusing on the lower years, to allow academically driven third years to get ahead with sorting out their university applications. Last year, Shirabu had spent the training camp passing to Goshiki. This time around, he decides not to join.

“Don’t think you can spend the week slacking off,” Coach warns him, as Shirabu submits his request letter to be excluded from the training camp. The old man doesn’t seem surprised at Shirabu’s letter – instead he places a brochure in his hands. “This team has a match on Saturday. Go watch how university students play, and actually learn something!”

Shirabu looks down at the brochure, and realises it’s for an open day at a university in Tokyo. The volleyball team is powerful, but more importantly, Shirabu remembers that the university is famous for its medicine faculty.

Coach has always known Shirabu’s intention to quit competitive volleyball after high school. Touched at the gesture, he bows his head in thanks.

**

The open day is on a Friday, and the match is set for the next day. When Shirabu tells Semi about his trip to Tokyo, Semi immediately tells Soekawa, who offers him a spare futon in his apartment, and so Shirabu gets to save on booking a room at a hotel.

“Hayato is on the opposing team,” Semi tells him. “A few of us will be in Tokyo to watch. We’ll meet you for the game!”

Suddenly, Shirabu’s quiet trip to Tokyo seems like a school excursion. But it doesn’t sound half bad, and he’s almost excited about it as he gets on the bullet train, brochure in his hands.

As it turns out, Soekawa goes to that exact university, and is working as a volunteer for the Open Day. He gives Shirabu a tour, and refers him to another volunteer who studies medicine, so that Shirabu can get a taste of how studying in the university is like. It doesn’t sound half bad. Shirabu keeps the university in mind for his career sheet.

“So Coach Washijou told you about the game,” Soekawa says, as he ushers Shirabu out of the building. “He gave you the brochure?”

Shirabu nods.

“Well, he did the same with me,” Soekawa laughs. “Shiratorizawa is a good school, so universities are happy to accept us, whether or not we intend to continue playing. As long as our academic credentials meet the mark.”

Once Shirabu is done with the open day, he leaves with a gift bag full of brochures, and drops his stuff off at Soekawa’s apartment. It’s a tiny one bedroom apartment, and Shirabu feels bad for taking up space, but Soekawa brushes off his apology, saying that he’s used to people crashing at his.

In the evening, Soekawa invites Shirabu for dinner with other alumni. Semi, Tendou, Oohira and even Ushijima are all there to watch Yamagata in the first string for the first time, and it’s a noisy dinner. They talk happily about their university life as they eat – about their annoying housemates, life after high school, their part time jobs. Everyone is particularly happy listening to Ushijima’s experience in professional volleyball – they had all been nervous he wouldn’t be able to fit in, and yet he seems to be doing fine.

“Shirabu,” Ushijima says. “Tomorrow, keep a close eye on the setter on the home team. He is a Shiratorizawa OB, and his play style is similar to yours.”

Coach must have had the same thought, too, Shirabu realises, as he nods seriously at Ushijima’s words. Whether or not he continues playing volleyball in university, the Spring High qualifiers are still right in front of him. He has to grasp every opportunity.

**

After dinner, Soekawa leaves early, citing a meetup with friends, and hands Shirabu the spare key. Tendou convinces Ushijima and Oohira to get ice cream, and so Shirabu is left alone with Semi, who walks him back to Soekawa’s apartment.

“I’ve stayed with Jin a few times when I’m in Tokyo,” Semi explains. “So I’m pretty familiar with the way there. Tendou and I are staying with Wakatoshi and Reon this time around, so I thought Jin could let you stay the night.”

“Oh.” Somehow, Semi’s kindness makes Shirabu’s face grow warm. “Thank you, Semi-san.”

“It’s no trouble,” Semi replies, grinning at him. Shirabu doesn’t know when Semi’s smile had gone from slightly annoying to incredibly... confusing. “I’m just glad we’re getting along. What a change from last year, huh?”

Shirabu doesn’t really have much of an answer for that, so he keeps quiet. The two of them walk side by side as the traffic passes them by, crossing the road and passing the university.

“I didn’t expect us to ever talk again after you graduated,” Shirabu admits, after a lengthy silence. “We don’t really share the same interests.”

Semi laughs. “I’ll tell you one thing that we have in common,” he says. “You know that shirt of yours? I used to own the exact same shirt.”

Oh. Shirabu isn’t very surprised at Semi’s words, considering how invested Semi was in the clothes shop they went to in Sendai. He wonders how his shirt looks on Semi, but when he tries to imagine it, his heart starts pounding, so he decides to not think about it at all.

“Well, I never ended up wearing it after I bought it, so I tossed it out. But I guess we have more in common than we thought, huh?”

“Please don’t rope me into having the same taste in fashion as you,” Shirabu sighs. “As I said, it was a gift. Tendou-san gave it to me.”

Semi blinks once. Then twice.

“Tendou… gave it to you?” he asks slowly. Shirabu nods.

“He gave it to me on the day of his graduation ceremony. I’m not the type to buy clothes like that, you know.”

“Oh.” Semi stares at him for a long time, eyes completely fixed on Shirabu. Shirabu feels his face going red with how intensely Semi is staring at him.

“Yes, Semi-san?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Semi gives him a tight-lipped smile. “Look, we’re here.”

Shirabu looks up, and Semi is right – they’ve reached the apartment building that Soekawa is staying in.

“I’ll see you at the match tomorrow, Shirabu.”

Semi’s smile is softer now, one hand raised in farewell. Shirabu, gripped by a sudden surge of embarrassment, stares at Semi’s shoes. Of course they’re fucking Doc Martens.

“See you tomorrow,” he mumbles, and walks toward the apartment building, trying not to think about how Semi is probably still at the same spot, waiting for him to enter.

**

Shirabu doesn’t really know why he decided to wear Tendou’s gift to the game. Maybe because he wanted to show his appreciation to Tendou for getting him a comfortable shirt, maybe he doesn’t want to be noticed in a Shiratorizawa shirt and be bombarded with questions about what happened at Inter High, maybe because wearing the shirt makes him feel closer to –

It’s definitely not the third one.

At the stadium, Shirabu and Soekawa meet up with Oohira, and they bump into Yamagata on the way to their seats. Yamagata’s face is lit up with excitement, thanking them for coming and chatting excitedly about how he’s finally included in the starting lineup. As the alumni continue chatting, Shirabu takes his leave and heads for the stands, determined to save them a good spot.

The moment he turns the corner, he hears the sound of Semi’s voice.

“You did that just to make fun of me, didn’t you?!”

Semi is yelling, voice filled with fury. Based on how he’s yelling, the recipient can only be Tendou Satori. Shirabu stays hidden behind the wall, and from where he’s standing he can confirm his suspicions – he spots Tendou, with his signature smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tendou sing-songs.

“You fucking moron, Tendou!” Semi snarls. “You gave Shirabu my shirt!”

Shirabu’s jaw drops, and _“I used to own the exact same shirt”_ rings in his ears. This whole time, he had been wearing a shirt belonging to Semi. He walked around the dorms, slept in it, ate in it, not knowing it belonged to the guy he-

He slaps himself on the cheeks to get rid of the thought.

“Well, no one wanted to buy from me ever since they found out about what happened to Tsutomu, so I thought it would be nice as a gift!” Tendou cackles like the sleazebag monster he is.

“Oh, fuck you!” Semi snaps. “Do you know what I thought when I first saw him wearing that? It looked like a fucking _boyfriend shirt_!”

Shirabu is gripped by a sudden urge to throttle Kawanishi.

“If you try hard enough, won’t it become a real boyfriend shirt?” Tendou says, hands behind his head. “Anyway, I just thought it would be hilarious if Kenjirou wore one of Eita-kun’s shirts without him knowing. I didn’t know he was actually going to like it!”

It’s Semi’s shirt. It’s fucking _Semi Eita’s_ shirt.

Why didn’t Shirabu see it coming? The striking pattern, the brand that Semi likes, Tendou telling him not to open it until he reached the dorms. How did Shirabu not think that Semi could have been the previous owner, when Semi was the first person to try out Tendou’s merchant scheme? Didn’t Shirabu see Tendou try to convince a first year to buy Semi’s old shoes?

But why the hell does it matter? It’s a comfortable shirt, and Shirabu likes wearing it. The fact that it once belonged to a guy with absolutely no fashion sense means nothing. Yet when Shirabu looks down at the black and white squares across the soft fabric, his heart pounds so fast it’s almost painful.

“You’re really-!!” Semi groans and covers his face with his hands. “I should have never told you…”

“What, that you find Kenjirou cute?” Tendou points straight at the direction where Shirabu is hiding. “Why not you tell him yourself? He’s literally right there!”

Oh, _fuck._

Shirabu makes a bolt for it before Semi can even speak. Fuck Tendou and his ridiculous guess monster skills. He runs straight into the washroom and locks himself in a cubicle, trying to slow his heartbeat.

This shirt – he’s wearing Semi’s shirt. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, but it _is._

The door to the washroom opens, and then –

“Shirabu, you’re here, aren’t you?” Semi’s voice pants. Shirabu flinches, but doesn’t answer. “Can you come out? Let me explain, okay?”

Some part of Shirabu wants to hide in the cubicle until he leaves, but he’s pretty sure Semi can spot his shoes from under the door. Not to mention that the game is starting soon, and he’ll have to be sitting in close proximity with Semi for the whole three sets. He takes a deep breath, and faces the music.

“I’m here,” he says quietly. Semi turns to him, and even in the dim light of the bathroom, Shirabu can see his cheeks go red.

“You’re wearing the shirt,” he says, awkwardly. Shirabu keeps silent.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Semi mutters, scratching the back of his head. “I know I come off as a bit of a sleaze, don’t I?”

A sleaze? Shirabu stares at him, not comprehending.

“I mean. I was being all nice to you, but now you know that I-” Semi seems to choke on the next few words, but he manages to spit them out. “I- I _like_ you.”

He- _what_?!

“You heard Tendou, didn’t you?” Semi continues, embarrassed. “He’s right. I think you’re – you’re cute. I mean, you’re definitely uncute, but there’s a lot of cute parts about you too, and… what I mean to say is, I didn’t start hanging out with you just because I like you, okay? I really do like being friends with you.”

Shirabu can’t believe it. Semi _likes_ him. Semi finds him cute. He thinks he might explode from how loudly his heart is beating, and he’s filled with the need to say something, anything to Semi, but he doesn’t know-

“I’m sorry if you find it weird,” Semi goes on, seeming to not notice Shirabu’s internal freakout. “I hope we can still be friends, y’know? And the shirt, well, I get it if you don’t want to wear it anymore-”

“I don’t hate it!” Shirabu all but yells in his face. Semi steps back, stunned. Shirabu clutches the hem of his shirt, the shirt that has caused him so much trouble, and tries to speak.

“I don’t hate the shirt,” he stammers out, looking at Semi desperately, hoping he’ll actually understand what he’s trying to say. “It’s – it doesn’t look like the right fit, and the pattern is kind of annoying, but – it’s – comfortable, and warm, and – I like wearing it. I like wearing it a lot.”

Semi just stares at him. Shirabu thinks he needs to explain, to speak in something else that isn’t just a stupid metaphor, but his throat closes up, and he _can’t_. He can’t say something so _embarrassing._ He’s just blurted out the closest thing to the truth, he can’t go any further.

Before Shirabu can do something stupid like tear up or melt into a puddle on the floor, Semi’s face breaks out into a huge grin. Shirabu wants to stomp on his foot at how obnoxious he looks, but he doesn’t get the chance to, as Semi sweeps him into a large hug.

“You’re so dishonest,” Semi says, his voice coloured with happiness. “Why can’t you just be straightforward and say how you feel? Geez.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Shirabu mutters, face flaming. “I like – I like the shirt.”

“I like you too,” Semi replies, his arms tightening around Shirabu. “I like you a lot.”

Shirabu is accustomed to Semi patting him on the head or even putting an arm around his shoulder, but being hugged is much nicer than those. He lifts his chin and rests his head on Semi’s shoulder, content. Even in the summer heat, Semi’s warmth is comforting, and Shirabu very much likes the feel of being wrapped up in his arms.

When they pull apart, the door creaks, and they finally realise that someone is staring at them. Namely, Ushijima, from the entrance of the washroom. Shirabu yelps, and tries to distance himself from Semi, but the shameless bastard keeps Shirabu close, arms tight around his waist, and lifts up a hand in greeting.

“Yo, Wakatoshi.”

Ushijima lifts up a hand in return, oblivious to Shirabu’s embarrassment. He looks at the both of them, taking in Semi’s arms around Shirabu, and then speaks.

“Shirabu. That’s an interesting shirt.”

Semi bursts out into laughter, while Shirabu goes completely red. Ushijima simply heads to the sink to wash his hands.

“I’m never wearing this shirt again,” Shirabu mutters under his breath. Semi grins down at him.

“That’s fine,” he says. “I’ve got plenty of other shirts you can borrow.”

Before Shirabu can lift up his foot to stomp on Semi’s toes, Semi leans in and presses his lips against Shirabu’s forehead. Ushijima walks past them without a word.

**

Shirabu spends the entire game with his eyes fixed on the setter Ushijima had told him to watch out for. True to what Ushijima had said, the setter doesn’t stand out much, but he has skilled hands, and the other players spike his tosses effortlessly, despite the tosses being rather ordinary.

“That senior always told me this,” Semi tells him, Shirabu’s hand in between his palms. “We may not be geniuses, but we can use our brains. So before we make a toss, we have to think carefully.”

Not this advice again. Shirabu wants to ignore him for the rest of the week like he did the last time, but Semi squeezes his fingers gently, and he can’t help but lean closer to him. _Damn it._

It’s a close match, but Yamagata’s team comes out of it victorious, and they cheer for Yamagata when the libero spots them in the stands. After they exit the stadium, they have lunch, and Tendou hands Shirabu a plastic bag full of chocolate-flavoured Pocky for the team, just before Shirabu leaves for Miyagi.

Semi walks him to the train station. They don’t hold hands, not out in public, but Semi does give Shirabu a hug once the train arrives. Shirabu clings to him for a little bit longer than necessary, just before they pull apart.

“I’ll come and visit you next week,” Semi tells him, smiling. “I promise.”

Shirabu will never admit it in a million years, but he’s hit by an intense wave of loneliness, watching Semi wave to him from outside the train. He looks down at the black and white squares on his t-shirt, and somehow, it reminds him of Semi’s warm arms around him. Perhaps that's the point of a boyfriend shirt, he thinks, face flushed but comforted nonetheless.

When he finally reaches the dorms, he finds Kawanishi changing the tank water for his fighting fish.

“Tendou-san texted me,” his roommate says, eyes not moving from the fish tank. “I told you that shirt looks like a boyfriend shirt.”

Shirabu doesn’t throttle him, but the moment Kawanishi turns around, he throws a box of Pocky right into his face.

**Author's Note:**

> shiratorizawa is a team always dear to my heart, i'm so happy i managed to write a fic about them! initially this was supposed to be short, but somehow it just spanned into.. well, this. 9k words... wtf
> 
> more about this fic in case anyone is interested:-
> 
> \- the shirt and the brand are completely made up, but they are inspired by real clothing brands  
> \- the seafood bowl is based off semi and shirabu's themed dish during the haikyuu animate cafe collab back in 2016(?) i can't imagine what tuna and whitebait taste like together, but i suppose the two of them wouldn't mind eating them!  
> \- the casual touches between shirabu and semi are very much inspired by fan reports from the haikyuu stage play  
> \- the lyrics semi sings is from "teen flick" by the artist mentioned above  
> \- sleazebag monster is supposed to be a pun on "guess/gesu" monster lmao
> 
> this whole fic is very much based on the abovementioned novel chapter. if you have access to the novels, i highly recommend reading it!


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